Chapter 19-Max P.O.V.
After a while, Iggy came out to get me. Fang was leaning against my shoulder, and I had an arm around his waist, trying to keep him from swaying and tipping over. He was totally drunk, but not at all rude, he seemed more childlike.
"Is he doing okay?" Iggy asks, and Fang speaks for the first time in what feels like hours.
"I'm alive, if that's what you mean, Max hasn't killed me." He says, his voice still a little off.
"Good, want to go home?" Iggy asks Fang, who nods and tried to stand up, and manages it better than I thought he would.
"Good, I might be kidnapped or raped if anyone else takes me home." He says, and Iggy hands him his jacket and I stand up. I put my gloves back on a long time ago, but I'm still regretting Fang see my arms, I hated the guy, for christ sake. But did I really? Sure, he was a jerk to me for years, but he was hurting too. Chances are that he was also the fang who texted me a while ago, but in reality, how many people were there who went by fang?
"Okay, Max, do you want a ride?" He asks, and my heart slides down into my stomach. I thought Dylan liked me, but what an idiot I was. Last I saw of him tonight, he was playing tonsil hockey with some girl in the grade below me. What was I thinking, that someone like him would like me, a complete loser for so many years. I turned my eyes down, and nodded. We went back through the house, and Fang held onto my wrist, his fingers loosely wrapped around my glove burning like acid through the lace barrier.
"Yeah, thanks Iggy." he nods solemnly and faces forward again, and i wonder where Ella is. He never said anything about her, but I still wondered if he felt the same way I did, a little abandoned.
"Max and I are friends now." Fang tells Iggy proudly, showing Iggy where he was holding into my wrist.
"That's nice Fang." Iggy says with a mischievous smile in my direction, and I blush, thankful for the dark of the house so he won't be able to see.
"I won't tell you how!" Fang says, shaking his head and grinning like a child with a secret that they're excited about.
"Really? You won't tell me?" Iggy asks, his tone playful, but I can tell he's a little tired. He smiles a little, but doesn't bounce the way he normally does when presented with a challenge.
"No, it's my and Max's secret, right Max?" He asks, looking down at me, and walking slightly closer. I wait for him to turn away, but he just stares down at me, even in the dark his eyes are glossy and amused. I nod, and force myself to look away from him. Am I drunk? I feel like I might be a little drunk.
"Yeah, You'll never figure it out, We're really good secret keepers." I say with a quiet voice, and Iggy raises his eyebrows slightly at me, and unlocks his truck. I help Fang sit in the back, and buckle him in while he exclaims to Iggy about how nice the upholstery is. I get in the front by Iggy, who had wrangled Fangs car keys away from him.
"I'm going to come back and get his car tomorrow. Silly kid." He remarks, and Fang actually giggles and flops over as the truck goes around a corner.
"Are you sure? I could do it, if you don't want to drive back into town." I offer, but he shakes his head, and makes another turn, tipping Fang over again in the backseat.
"It's fine. You know, I'm really not sure about what he thinks of you anymore Max." Iggy says with a hushed voice, but Fang hears him.
"I love Max, Iggy!" He shouts, and Iggy laughs. I frown and look back at Fang, who's sitting with his hands in his lap, smiling when he sees my face around the seat.
"No, you don't love me, okay?" I tell him, but he shakes his head and frowns, looking just like a big child.
"Yes I do, Don't make me recall my friendship!" He shouts again, and I huff and sit back forward again, Iggy laughing.
"That answers my question, then." I glare at Iggy, but he isn't looking at me. I look out of the windshield, and the bars of light from the streetlights flood the cab. We ride in silence, Fang whacks his head against the window and he and Iggy laugh. The truck slows down to a stop light and accelerates away from it. I'm tired and there's too much on my mind. The truck pulls up in front of Fangs house, and I open my door before Iggy can.
"I've got it Iggy." I say, and he nods, and takes out his phone, dialing a number and I hear the rings in the silence. I help Fang out of the car, and into his house. Total trots up to us, and up the stairs after Fang.
"Come on Total! It's bedtime!" Fang coaxes the dog, who follows him obediently, his little tail wagging furiously. Fang goes into his room, and wanders around for a little while, before ripping his shirt off.
"I'm going to change!" He exclaims, and I just gape at him.
"So don't look at me!" He says again, and I head over to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
"Okay, change and I'll get you a washcloth." I tell him, and look at myself in the mirror. My minimal makeup and hair are still in tact, and I look pretty. What does it matter though? Dylan didn't really seem to care, maybe he pitied me, or just saw me as a friend. I wash the makeup off, and pull my hair up away from my face unto a ponytail. I wish I had a change of clothes.
"Max, I need a little help." Fang says from the other side of the door, sounding a little strangled, and I go out to find him struggling to get a sweatshirt over his head.
"Oh lord, Fang, that's an armhole." I tell him, and help him get his head into the correct part of the sweatshirt.
"Oh, thanks." He says, and flops down on his bed, Total hops up next to him, and I rub the little dogs fur. I roll Fang over and wipe at his face, it's not dirty, but it might feel nice.
"Do you need anything else before I go?" I ask, and he opens his eyes and looks up at me.
"Could you leave next week?" He asks, and I laugh a little, making him smile.
"I would, but I have to go home, my mom's expecting me." I lie, but he just keeps on smiling.
"Your mom sounds nice. Bye Max." He says, wiggling under his blankets and waving as I stand up.
"Bye Fang, are you sure you don't need anything?" I ask, and he shakes his head, turning away from me so I can't see his face.
"Just turn off the light before you go." He says softly, and I cross the room to the door, flicking the lights off and hearing Total sigh when they do. I linger for a second at the doorway, looking into the darkness, inhaling the smell of unwashed sheets and old books. It's not a bad smell, it makes me want to stay until next week.
"Don't forget to love yourself." I whisper quietly as I shut the door, making sure he won't hear me. I linger for a second outside the closed door, and peer out a window a little down the hall. Iggy's still on the phone, so I decide to poke around. I don't want to touch anything, it all looks settled and a little stale. Down the "zombie hall", I've decided to call it, theres a bathroom with two used towels lying in a heap on the floor and hair products and a toothbrush gathered around the sink, all with a little film of dust over them. The bedroom is empty, the bed is unmade and clothes litter the floor, there's a book lying on its face on a nightstand, and a vanity is still littered with makeup and nail polish bottles. This must be his parents room, but there aren't any pictures like I thought there would be. My mom had school pictures of me and Maya since we were little all around her room, but this room had nothing, not even a painting of a sunset or something. I leave, deciding I don't like it in here.
"Hey, is he okay?" Iggy asks when I get back outside, he seems a little more cheerful than he did when I left to take Fang inside.
"I'm not sure, Iggy, Is he okay?" I ask, and Iggy recoils, but he looks much more surprised than confused. He knows something.
"What do you mean, Max?" He says, and I tighten my hands into fists. Fang isn't okay.
"Do you know where his parents are?" I ask, but Iggy just stares at me, he looks bewildered, and keeps opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something, but doesn't know what he should say that won't sound bad.
"Why is he so sad?" I ask, and I realize how pissed off I sound. Am I pissed off? Probably, I feel pissed off like a mom would if I found out my kid was being bullied.
"I don't know any more than you do Max." Iggy says, and he looks sincere.
"How long did you know?" I ask, and he starts up the truck. I'm not mad, I just need to keep myself from making it seem like I'm mad at Iggy.
"Like a month, that his parents were always gone. I don't know if that's why he's sad though." He says, and we pull out of the driveway and head towards my house.
"His house looks like the set of a zombie movie. I'm not mad, I'm just a little upset." I say, and he nods, turning down the radio a little bit.
"I don't know where they are, but they should come back. No one leaves their underage kid alone for that long." Iggy says, his voice has the same tone of "wow I'm pissed" that mine has. Iggy and I ride in silence the rest of the way to my house, and I get out when he pulls up in my driveway, the inside of my house dark.
"Bye Iggy, text me when you make it home." I say, and he nods.
"Night Max, see you Monday." He says, and I punch in the combination for the garage and go inside, my moms car is gone, she's probably at work still. After raiding the kitchen, I go upstairs and get ready for bed, lying and staring up at my ceiling. My house is too quiet, and my head is too loud.
When I'm back at school on monday, Fang drops his books in the desk next to mine, and sits down heavily.
"Good morning." I say, and he drops his head on the desk and groans. I laugh a little, and he turns his head to look at me. He looks tired, remnants of dark circles under his eyes.
"I hate mornings." He grumbles, and I push my water bottle towards him.
"I have a little tea, if you want some." I ask, nervous. I'm still unsure about him, but after what he shared with me drunk, I don't feel like he's as cruel-hearted as I believed he was. Plus, I mean, he did say that he loved me and I more or less put him to bed. In a totally not-weird way.
"Sure. Umm, sorry about saturday, Max. Iggy says I was being weird." He says, taking a sip of my tea. He doesn't seem bothered by the wandering eyes of all the other students gathering in the classroom before school.
"No, it's okay. You were like a big toddler." I say, trying to make myself as small as I can in my desk when Dylan and Sam come into the room. Fang looks over his shoulder where I'm looking, but Dylan doesn't even cast a glance in my direction. I look down at my notebook, as he sits across the room from me.
"You know, you shouldn't let it bother you." Fang says, and my head snaps up. He's scribbling in the footnotes of his notebook, but his jaw is tight.
"What?" I ask, a little bewildered. His eyes flick up for a second to meet mine, and he has the same angry expression he used to always wear.
"You shouldn't let dickheads like them make you feel bad about yourself." He tells me, and I raise one eyebrow. I get that he likes me, but does he have to be so painfully obvious about it? Maybe it's because he told me, so he doesn't see a point in trying to hide it.
"Okay, thanks for the memo, Fangles." I say, and he scrunches his face up.
"Don't call me that." He hisses, but I grin. If he hates it, I will call him that until the day I die.
"Sorry, I think I like that name." I say, and Iggy skips around the room to sit on the other side of me.
"Maxwell! Fangles! My friends!" Iggy cries, and Fang casts a smirk at me, and I drop my head into my arms, my face hidden in my sweatshirt.
"Maxwell? Do you have something you'd like to share?" Fang asks, humor in his voice. Iggy flops down into the desk on the other side of me, and I lift my head just enough to glare at him.
"She just looks a little boyish in those sweatshirts." Iggy says, and I groan and drop my arm to root around in my backpack. I'm cold, and I want my hat.
"I think she looks cute. You looked nice on saturday, too." Fang says, poking my in the side with his pen. My fingers curl around the soft knit of my hat, and I sit up and yank it over my hair. Iggy snickers and Fang gives me a lopsided grin, but I just give him a blank stare.
"Aww, come on Max. I didn't mean it, take off the hat." Iggy says, putting his chin on the edge of his desk and pushing out his lower lip, trying to look cute. I roll my eyes and push his face away from me.
"Then you shouldn't be mean to me, you inconsiderate space herpe." I hiss as Ms. Davis enters and goes to write on the board.
"Space herpe? You're too much, Max." Iggy snickers, flipping through his notebook for the homework assignment. I dig out my own notebook and turn to the page with my notes as ms. davis starts to go around the room, lips pursed and not making eye contact with anybody. I grind my teeth together and refuse to look at either Fang or Iggy and stare at the front of the classroom. I stay quiet until Ms. Davis checks all the notebooks and pulls up the powerpoint on the overhead to reach over and stab Iggy with my pencil, and he stabs me back, and I grin. Class is slow, and when it's over, Iggy grabs my wrist and drags me towards the door in the sea of students.
"Max!" Someone calls, and I turn, but Fang puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me forward after Iggy, who still has a firm grip on my wrist.
"Wait, Someone..."
"Walk, Max." It's not a request, it's a command. I grit my teeth and roll my shoulder, and he takes his hand off, letting me follow after Iggy without him touching me. The person call out again, and I turn to see Dylan over my shoulder trying to get through the crowd to me. Iggy yanks on my wrist hurriedly, and I follow after him, confused. Why should Dylan call after me now, after he left me?
"Max, let's get pizza." Iggy says, and takes me towards the lunchroom, Gazzy appearing through the crowd and latching onto my other wrist.
"Where are we dragging Max?" He asks, and both of them pull me along, chatting to each other. I don't know if I want to go with them. Dylan calls me again, and a wave goes through me. I want to hit him, I want him to feel as confused and hurt as I do, so I just let them drag me along. I follow like a zombie and pay for my food, taking my place between Iggy and Nudge.
"Max! I have sushi rolls, want to share with me? My dad helped me make them this morning, they have fish and carrots and mayo and..." Nudge keeps going as I take bites of my pizza and peer up at her occasionally. Angel sends me a sympathetic smile across the table, and I try to smile back. Why am I so miserable? I shouldn't be, I should be happy to be around my friends and have Angel smiling at me and Nudge talking my ear off. Someone slides a few apple slices onto my tray, and I focus just long enough to see Fangs leather jacket sleeve retreat back to his side of the table.
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"Max! Come on, wait!" Dylan runs after the girls retreating backpack as she makes her way across the parking lot. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone why he was chasing after her, but after she disappeared at the dance, he worried about her. She stops and turns, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets. He hurried towards her, and she doesn't move away from him.
"Hey, where have you been all day?" He asks, suddenly nervous. She shouldn't make him nervous, there are other girls in this school who are much prettier, and much more fun, but he had to have Max.
"Hiding." She says, a bored, spacey expression on her face. She turns to leave, and he grabs at her sleeve, jerking her back. He tries to pull her into him, but she's heavier than he anticipated, and doesn't budge. He wants her closer, he remembers her smell, something flowery, but not like perfume.
"Why? You hiding from me or something?" He asks, and she takes a step back away from him, ripping her sleeve out of his grip.
"Probably." She snarls, and he's taken back. What the heck? He hasn't even said anything rude! If anything, she should be flattered that someone like him is talking to her in a place where they can be seen. He grabs at her again, but this time, grips the edge of her hood and her collar. her expression doesn't fade.
"Don't act like I've done anything wrong." He wants to shout, but it comes out to casually, like he's addressing a friend.
"Hit me." She whispers, and he drops her.
"What?" He questions, just realizing how threatening he must have looked, like he was about to punch her or something.
"Hey! Hands off the kids." Fang knocks Dylans arms off Max and gently pushes her behind him. Theres a silence as Dylan looks at his old friend with disbelief. The empty eyes don't give away anything, but the hard line of his jaw is angry, and Max's hand twines in the back of his coat.
"We were just talking." Dylan says, defensive, and Fang counters almost immediately.
"That didn't look like talking. Don't touch her again." Fang spits, and Dylan looks shocked.
"Fang, he didn't do.." Max creeps around Fang side to talk to him, and he puts an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. Dylan frowns when her face turns pink, but she doesn't try to push away from him, she just melts into his side.
"Quiet. Don't touch her, or I'll kill you." Fang threatened, and Dylan doesn't find the threat empty. He's seen what Fang does when people cross the line with him. Dylan stands still and watches as Fang turns and leads Max away with him, her still tucked under his arm, their height's frustratingly compatible.
"Fang, he was just asking me where I've been." She says, feeling small and weak under his arm, but safe.
"It didn't look like that when he grabbed you by the collar." He growls, his fingers gripping her shoulder hard.
"Nudge thought he was going to hit you." He says again, and Max feels her heart sink. She doesn't like thinking about Nudge with any thoughts in her head but happy ones. They come to Fang's car, and she doesn't hesitate to get into the passenger side. Dylan watches her get into Fangs car, and turns to stalk back to the school, blowing off all the curious glances from students. He just got seriously rejected, and for some reason, this stings way more than any other breakup he's had in the past. Fang looks at Max over the center console as he backs out of the parking lot, she looks blank and her forehead is creased. He reached over and runs his thumb over the pale ridges, and she swats his hand away.
"What the heck, Fang." She says, but her tone is empty where it's normally fiery. He pull his hands away when she relaxes her forehead.
"What's bothering you Maxwell. You're not as feisty as normal, don't tell me that asshole's gotten to you?" He asks, and she sighs, turning her head to look out the window. She feels sense of peace now, sitting in Fangs ridiculously nice car, with fang saying his stupid words at her. Outside, snow is falling, but melting on contact with the still warm ground.
"Of course not. I'm just tired." She mumbles, and he wants to snort and tell her that he knows that she's bullshitting him, but he stays quiet.
"Okay, I'll take you home." He says, and she sighs again. He hates the sighing, but this sign is content. Maya is going to a friends house, and her mom has been working nights recently, so she'll have the whole house to herself until Maya comes home.
"Thanks." She says quietly, and they stay in lukewarm silence for the two minute ride to Max's house, where she gets out and gathers her backpack.
"You know, if you don't want to be by yourself, you can come to my house." He offers, and she visibly blanches. She's warming up to the idea of him sticking around, but she needs time to herself.
"No, my mom wants me to be home for dinner." She lies smoothly, and Fang nods, looking a little disappointed, and the sad smile he gives her looks too genuine for her liking.
"Okay, see you tomorrow Max." He says, and she grits her teeth and nods and shuts the door, bolting to her house, the wind whipping at her coat. She slams the door behind her, dumping her backpack and coat on the floor, and running upstairs. Theres a fist around her lungs, and her feet are going numb, she's hot and her head is filled with static. She runs into her room and her legs give out when she gets to her bathroom. Fang and Dylans and Nudge's faces flash through her head, and she pulls herself up on her knees, sweeping products off the counter of her sink and digging with clumsy fingers through drawers for that one box that she needs. She ignores the pills in the corner of the box, they never made her feel better, only those wicked blades did. She clutches one wide shaving blade between her thumb and and forefinger, and digs it into the center of her forearm, pressing the blade into her skin. It bites with a bubble of blood and she yanks it to the side, the wide slice opening and redesign a stream of blood over the side of her arm, drops on the crisp white tile.
"Max!" She doesn't hear the voice downstairs, or the slam of the door. She pushes the blade again, and four more times as feet make their way up the stairs, the blood making a small, crimson puddle by her knee. She can't breathe, she needs to breathe, she can't, the fist around her lungs is made of stone and she's going to die.
"Max!" The voice behind makes her jump and she's hyperventilating, her legs go numb, her spine curls and she tries desperately to breathe. Fang drops to his knees over her, panicked and totally unsure of what to do.
"Hey, it's okay, just breathe." He shakily instructs, deciding that getting her to calm down is more important that the blood that she's smearing around on the floor with her legs, that she's not in control of. Her eyes dance around, and her breathing is shallow, her arms clutched to her chest, one of them smeared with blood. He grabs her shoulders and pulls her into him, and her hands knot in his shirt right away.
"Breathe. You're okay, don't worry Max." He whispers, and her breathing starts to slow, her legs stopping their violent dance. He lessens his tight hold on her, letting her shoulderblades rest on his lap. She's so beyond embarrassed, but she can't let him go. He must understand, if he hasn't scolded her yet, he's holding her, making her feel safe, pulling her back into her body. Fang wants to do something, maybe wipe the blood off her arms and the floor, or get her some new clothes to change into, but the way her knuckles are white from holding onto his shirt is discouraging all of that. Fang find a bottle of orange pills on the floor, and reads the label.
"Take one as needed for Anxiety," It reads, and he unscrews the top, edging the tab past her lip and watching her swallow it dry.
"Do you want water?" He asks, and she shakes her head, lower lip quivering. He peels her hat off of her sweaty hair and smooths her hair away from her face. Something lurches in his chest, is this because of him? The years of mindless teasing and rumors, is this what that did too her?
"Is this because of Dylan?" He asks, and she squeezes her eyes closed, tears escaping and being wiped away by his fingers.
"Sorry, I'm sorry I asked." He whispers, hugging her to his chest. He holds onto her for a second, before unwrapping her arms from him and sorting through her cabinets for medical tape, relieved to find it in the first try so he doesn't have to root around in her things. He rinses a washcloth under water, and wipes at her arm, the five, wide slices make his stomach churn. These need stitches, but he's going to guess that she doesn't have sutures or sterilized equipment.
"Do you want advil, I don't want to hurt you." He whispers, trying to keep his voice steady. He wants to yell at her, tell her that she shouldn't do this, and that he takes back everything that he's ever said in the past. She shakes her head and lets him turn her arm over and pinch one of the wide gashes together, and secure it closed with the piece of athletic tape. She doesn't flinch, she just watches his face as he tapes closed her wounds, his eyebrow twitching and his mouth a hard line. She almost wants him to yell at her, tell her she's crazy, that her life his fine and that his is worse. But he doesn't.
"You won't hurt me." She says, her tongue feeling like a dry sponge in her mouth, and his eyes flick up to meet hers for a second. The dark pools meet hers, the barely visible pupils widening slightly before flicking back down to her wrist, dark brows drawing together. Is she seriously ogling him as he tapes up her arm? God, she's so screwed up. When he finishes, he helps her to her feet and sends her back to her room to change while he mops up the blood on the floor. His hands are still warm from where they were pressed into her back, where they pressed the tape tape into her skin, where her fists pressed into his stomach through his tee-shirt. He drops the blooded razor into the trashcan, and wipes up the smeared blood with a dark brown washcloth from under the sink.
"Silly girl." He mutters under his breath, running the rag under the water and wringing it out hard. If it wasn't for the shake in her knees, and the way she gripped the handrail on her porch, he would have left her bleeding on the bathroom floor by herself. He couldn't have guessed, in the past, how similar he and Max could be. Once he looked past the superficial layers that they both had.
Hanging up the washcloth, he goes back into the bedroom, Max sitting crosslegged on her bed, head down and hands knit together at the ends of her sleeves. Fang takes off his coat and sits next to her, careful not to touch her. He wants to be there for her, but he doesn't want to invade her space.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He starts, and realized how awkward his words sound. he sounds like her dad, or something weird like that. She lets out a choked sound, and shakes her head.
"Hey, come here kid." He holds and arm out to her, and she scoots closer, tucking herself under his arm and against his side. The sudden contact shocks him, but Max is just happy for the warmth. She doesn't even know Fang anymore, he's kind, and protective, and dumb, while Nick is mean and popular. But right now, she doesn't mind, and can't gather the willpower to pull herself away from his side.
"I'm so stupid." She whimpers, sniffling and trying hard not to cry. She doesn't want to cry in front of him, but the tears are already making their way down her cheeks, and she wipes them away with her sleeves. He squeezes her shoulders, and rests his chin or top of her head. She feels totally surrounded by his warmth and clean boy smell.
"Of course you aren't. But why do you say that?" He asks, voice carefull.
"I'm letting all these dumb, petty things get to me." She lets out a strangled choke, and his arms are around her. Her hurt arm is being crushed into her chest painfully, but she doesn't want him to let her go.
"Don't Max. Don't let him get to you, you're better than that." He whispers, and she nestles into his chest, one hand balling up in his grey tee-shirt.
"I can't help it, I thought I was figuring it all out." She chokes out slowly, and he leans back, lying down on the bed with his legs dangling over the edge, Max still curled up with her head of his chest. He knows that laying down will keep her calm and keep her from having another panic attack.
"It sucks, huh?" He asks, not expecting an answer, and she doesn't give one. he want's to scold her and tell her that She should forget Dylan. She has friends that care about her, and Fang cares about her, and more so every day. She shouldn't feel bad when Dylan steps on her feelings, she shouldn't feel anything, because he could never compare to her.
"Listen, you're amazing Max. The coolest girl I've ever met." He tells her, and she just smiles so he can't see. After a while, she falls asleep on him, and he peers around her room, the soft colors calming and cozy. The room is tidy, with books stacked on the desk and a few clothes strewn around the floor. It looks oddly normal, aside for all the posters with people he doesn't know and written in korean. Weird that he didn't notice them the first time he was here. he cranes his neck and grabs a book from her nightstand, flipping through the pages with one hand, the other toying with her blonde curls.
He's almost asleep when her phone buzzes, and she stirs, frowning, but doesn't wake up. Careful not to touch her, he fishes the phone out of her big sweatshirt pocket.
'I swear to god if you're with Nick right now...' The screen reads, under Dylans name in plain text. At least she gave him a normal name, and not something stupid littered with emojis and smiley faces. He slides past the lock screen and deletes the message right away, before he has the temptation to read through whatever conversations they may have had. Jealousy rises like bile in his throat. Dylan's a dick to girls like Max, he shouldn't be allowed to torture her.
Max stirs again, and settles with her face turned towards him, looking painfully sweet, her arm cradled to her chest. He sighs and brushes a few strands of hair out of her face, he'll take care of her. He adds his name and number to her phone, and sighing when a series of old texts show up from when he tried to text her a while ago. He remembers getting her number from Iggy.
"If you tell her I asked for her number I swear to god Iggy." He had threatened, and Iggy had just laughed and held up his hands in mock defense. he looks down at Max's sleeping face before carefully detangling himself from her and putting the book back down on the nightstand.
She sighs in her sleep and turns on her side, one arm flung over the bedspread, looking for him.
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